


lay us down, we're in love

by amsves



Category: Code Geass
Genre: Flashbacks, Fluff, It's not incest they're not real brothers, M/M, Nightmares, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, Spoilers for "Akito the Exiled", Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 16:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10390467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amsves/pseuds/amsves
Summary: Things done in a bed.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Fall of the House of Usher](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2298569) by [tapochki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tapochki/pseuds/tapochki). 



> Title: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YSWIfX_MNCY

I. Sometimes, Lelouch has nightmares.  
  
Memories are a tricky thing, see. Though Charles’ Geass may have suppressed them on the surface, giving Lelouch a new past and a new life and a new ~~fake~~ brother, they have a way of bubbling back up in dreams, disguised as nonsense, noise lost in the cacophonous sea of disjointed images and screeching sounds and raw emotions of _fear_. Rolo knows nightmares all too well, knows that they come on when you least expect them, knows that they fill your head with fire and your heart with ice and tear you limb from limb, and though he can never know exactly what is going on inside his ~~fake~~ brother’s head, he knows that it can’t be good.  
  
Lelouch wakes in a cold sweat almost every night, gasping for breath, eyes blown wide in horror, terrified of his own mind, own body, own heart. Sometimes he screams; most times, he is silent, too paralyzed by fear to cry for help. Rolo has taken to sleeping on the floor in his ~~fake~~ brother’s room so that he can hear when Lelouch shoots up in his bed in the dead of night, clutching the covers until his knuckles turn white and his fingers, raw from his new habit of biting his fingernails until they bleed, carve half-moons into his palms. At first, he slept on the floor; then, he brought a spare mattress into his ~~fake~~ brother’s room and slept there; eventually, he graduated to sleeping beside Lelouch in the bed itself.  
  
This in itself is a blessing Rolo never could have hoped for.  
  
Lelouch’s eyes are closed now, but Rolo knows his sleep is far from restful. His paper-white eyelids flutter rapidly, dark eyelashes dancing across his pale cheeks. His chapped lips (also torn and bleeding; he has started to bite his lip when his fingers are all covered in bandaids) form shallow outlines of words, perhaps a cry of desperation in his lurid slumber. Rolo knows that his ~~fake~~ brother is most likely crying out for the sister that he can only remember when he is sleeping, the sister for whom he risked it all and lost.  
  
( _Does Nunnally even know what Lelouch has done for her? Does she even know how much he lost for her? How many lives were sacrificed for her? Does she even understand?_  
  
Rolo thinks he might hate her.)  
  
But now is not the time to waste emotions on anyone but his ~~fake~~ brother. Lelouch will wake momentarily, Rolo knows this. The movement of his eyelids and lips mean that he is close to breaking free of his current hellish dream and will soon come crashing to the surface. Rolo runs his fingers through his brother’s soft mocha hair, marveling at the texture though this is far from the first time, and then slips quietly out of bed. He makes his way to the kitchen and starts to brew a pot of chamomile tea. It is almost ready when he hears the telltale rustle of sheets indicating his ~~fake~~ brother’s awaking.  
  
Rolo pours two cups of the steaming tea into teacups and pads carefully back into their bedroom (because it is theirs, now; though Rolo has his own bed in another room, with his clothes and his things, the fact remains that Lelouch’s bed is where he sleeps, now). Lelouch’s eyes are bloodshot from lack of sleep, his rich purple irises contracted, quivering. Rolo takes care to make his steps louder now, so that Lelouch hears him coming and is not afraid. He enters the room and sets his own cup down on their bedside table before carefully offering the second to Lelouch. His ~~fake~~ brother gingerly accepts the cup, but doesn’t drink, just clutches it tightly in his hands. They sit like this for exactly seventeen minutes, according to their clock, before Lelouch ventures a sip of the rapidly cooling tea. A small smile graces his face.  
  
Rolo waits until his ~~fake~~ brother has finished his drink before sipping on his own. It’s cold now, but that doesn’t bother him. He takes Lelouch’s (empty) cup and his (still mostly full) own back to the kitchen and places them in the sink. When he returns, Lelouch has fallen back asleep.  
  
Rolo climbs back into bed with his ~~fake~~ brother, kisses him gently on the forehead, and murmurs “Sweet dreams, Nii-san” before he rests his head on the pillow beside Lelouch. He clutches his ~~fake~~ brother’s icy hand tightly in his own. There will be no more nightmares tonight.  
  
-  
  
II. Sometimes, Lelouch doesn’t even have to be asleep for the nightmares to find him.  
  
They study in Lelouch’s room as well. Though Ashford Academy has two beautiful libraries as well as countless other excellent studying spaces, Lelouch’s bedroom is their place. Lelouch studies sprawled out on his bed, while Rolo sits at the desk. Lelouch’s version of studying is hardly worthy of its name; it consists less of homework and more of complaining about the inconsequential curriculum, recounting anecdotes of the school day, and discussing upcoming student council events, though eventually all of his homework does get done. At first it annoyed Rolo, how Lelouch would distract him so easily, but now he can’t bring himself to mind.  
  
Lelouch’s class is starting some classical English play or another in their class; Rolo can’t bring himself to remember exactly which one. He’ll know it well enough by tomorrow, since there is a zero percent chance that his brother will let him forget. Rolo blows a piece of hair out of his eyes and starts on another algebra problem. Beside him, he hears his brother digging around in his school bag for the play.  
  
Lelouch gasps. Rolo whips his head around to see Lelouch shaking, pale as a ghost, play abandoned on the floor. In a flash, Rolo crosses the floor to sit next to his trembling brother, wishing for the thousandth time that it wasn’t strictly forbidden to use his time-stopping Geass in moments like these. He gently places a hand on Lelouch’s shoulder; Lelouch retaliates by throwing himself away, like Rolo’s touch is poison.  
  
Rolo tries not to let it get to him.  
  
“Nii-san, it’s me,” he says softly. “It’s your brother. I’m not going to hurt you.” He is confused as to why Lelouch has been reduced to this shuddering mess in the middle of the day, but that can wait. Calming his brother down has to come first.  
  
Lelouch blinks, and Rolo can see the moment clarity floods his eyes. “R-rolo?” he whispers, voice cracking. He glances at the play on the floor and immediately it’s like a switch has been flipped, and he’s back to his previous state.  
  
Rolo peers at the offending play and groans internally. Of all the classical texts by the playwright Shakespeare, they had to be reading _Julius Caesar_. Rolo knows all too well that Julius was a failed experiment by His Imperial Majesty to repurpose his wayward son, knows because he had been there, had seen the way his brother had crumbled under the weight of his failed identity, had begged for his only friend to strangle him then and there in the prison cell. He clenches his fist in anger because _how dare anyone do this to such a man as my brother_ , but there is no time for anger because Lelouch is losing himself in his own mind again and he has to act now.  
  
_there’s no time there’s no time there’s no time -_  
  
Rolo shakes his head and takes a deep breath. He kicks the play under the bed before grabbing tightly to Lelouch’s hand. His brother (predictably) struggles against the foreign touch, but Rolo hangs on until Lelouch stops struggling against his touch and instead leans into it, resting his head on Rolo’s shoulder. “It’s alright, Nii-san,” he whispers comfortingly as he runs his fingers through his brother’s hair. “I’m right here. I’ll protect you.”  
  
They don’t move for hours, opting to remain entwined on Lelouch’s mattress, breathing slowly in and out in sync. Rolo hasn’t let go yet of his brother’s hand, and doesn’t plan to any time soon.  
  
It is dark by the time Lelouch moves. He chuckles drily and sits up, stretching his sleeping muscles. “You’ll protect me, huh?” He ruffles Rolo’s hair. “I should be the one saying that. I should be protecting you.”  
  
“Don’t worry about it, Nii-san.” Rolo leans into his brother’s side. “As long as we stay together, we can protect each other. We’ll be unstoppable.”  
  
Lelouch smiles, and falls back down onto the mattress.  
  
Rolo slides out from beside his brother and tiptoes quietly over to his computer. He doesn’t care that his homework remains unfinished, cares little for his studies required by a school he doesn’t attend, not really, but there is something that remains to be done. He quickly types out an email to Villetta-sensei asking her to please intervene on Lelouch’s behalf and excuse him from the reading of _Julius Caesar_. He doesn’t doubt that she’ll understand.  
  
Email completed, he slides back into bed alongside his brother and closes his eyes.  
  
The next day, Lelouch informs him with a bemused smile that his class has decided to read _Macbeth_ instead.  
  
-  
  
III. Even a prince gets sick, sometimes.  
  
Rolo witnesses this first-hand when one of Lelouch’s classmates comes to school with a cold. It’s only a few days before everyone in their class, his brother included, has caught the disease, but Lelouch seems to be faring worse than the rest of them. He was always very sickly as a child, Rolo remembers from his briefing, and combined with his recent double life he probably has been depriving himself of sleep and vital nutrients as of late. Rolo can only do so much to repair an immune system that his brother appears to have been dismantling his whole life.  
  
A cup of steaming chamomile tea sits by Lelouch’s bedside. A cold compress rests on his forehead. The blankets are pulled up to his chin, but he is shirtless. Lelouch is a man of contradictions in all things, Rolo muses.  
  
He has been sleeping for most of the day, after attempting to get out of bed and immediately keeling over. Rolo had stripped him of his sweat-soaked pajamas and hoisted him back onto the bed. Even for someone like him, Lelouch hadn’t been that heavy. Rolo had emailed their teachers informing them of his brother’s illness and promptly waited by Lelouch’s bedside ever since.  
  
He checks the compress on Lelouch’s head. It’s still the same moderate coolness that it was a minute ago: not cold enough, really, but not warm enough to warrant wringing and replacing. He frowns.  
  
Lelouch stirs. Rolo hears the sheets rustle, knows before he looks up that Lelouch is staring at him, likely in a mix of gratitude and confusion. A glance at his brother’s pale, pinched face confirms his suspicions. “How are you feeling, Nii-san?”  
  
“Rolo,” Lelouch whispers, voice failing him, “Shouldn’t you be in class?”  
  
“It’s already four in the afternoon, Nii-san,” Rolo answers him, artfully dodging the fact that he didn’t go to class even when it was in session.  
  
Or so he thought. Lelouch gave him a knowing glare, and Rolo sighed. “How could I go to class, knowing you were sick?”  
  
Lelouch smiles in exasperation and rolls his eyes. “I would have been fine. But thank you, Rolo.” He shivers.  
  
Rolo reaches to snatch the compress away, but Lelouch waves a hand. “I’m fine. My head is pretty hot, actually. It’s my torso that’s chilly. It appears that _someone_ forgot to put another shirt on me after stealing my first one.”  
  
Rolo ducks his head, blushing. “Sorry, I just—”  
  
“It’s alright.” Lelouch closes his eyes. He looks so small, helpless, crumpled in on himself like a balled-up piece of paper. Rolo eyes his long, skinny fingers, with nails bitten to the quick, and thinks that he could very easily break them, if Lelouch weren’t Lelouch. He could probably break all of his brother’s bones, he starts to think, but the train of thought is so morbid he immediately shuts it down.  
  
Rolo doesn’t bother to stifle his yawn; caring for his brother had involved almost no physical effort, but he feels exhausted regardless, like he’d just run a marathon. Quietly, he slips off his school uniform and crawled into bed on the other side.  
  
Lelouch started at the sudden dip in the mattress. “Rolo? What are you doing?”  
  
“Taking a nap,” he replies as he pulls the covers up to his chin. “Taking care of you really did a number on me, Nii-san. Besides, you’re not the only one who gets to sleep the day away.”  
  
“But you’ll get sick!” his brother protested weakly, undermined by his habitual, almost instinctive reaction of pulling Rolo closer to him. Lelouch’s fever makes the normally cold boy a personal hot water bottle, and he wastes no time snuggling up to his brother.  
  
“So what if I do?” he retorts, already drifting off. He can feel his eyes sliding closed, lulled shut by the consistency of his brother’s breaths, of the shallow but steady pulse of his brother’s heartbeat. Distantly, he registers that Lelouch’s fingers are in his hair, before sleep claims him.  
  
They wake up the next morning, after classes have begun, just as they were the afternoon before: tangled together. Lelouch’s fever seems to have been passed on to Rolo.  
  
-  
  
IV. It was bound to come to this, Rolo has time to think, before he can’t think anymore.  
  
From the very beginning, almost, he’d been attracted to his brother. He’d never assumed that Lelouch would return his affections, especially since he believed them to be flesh and blood, but apparently he had been wrong, because Lelouch’s mouth is on his and his tongue is in Rolo’s mouth and _oh God—_  
  
( _“I just don’t understand,” Lelouch had half-pleaded, half-sobbed. “We’re brothers, aren’t we? So why do I feel this way?”_  
  
_Lelouch’s misery twisted Rolo’s heart. “It’s okay, Nii-san,” he reassured his brother, grasping tightly to his hand. “I don’t understand, either. Maybe we don’t have to understand.”_ )  
  
The passionate part of Lelouch must have won out over the logical part because what they are doing right now is unmistakably Not What Normal Brothers Do. Rolo thanks whatever deities that may exist for this moment of confusion on Lelouch’s part, because eventually his brother will regain control over his mind, and he will hate himself for what he’s done now.  
  
Rolo doesn’t want Lelouch to hate himself, but he also doesn’t want him to stop.  
  
It had started with a kiss, simply enough, except for it wasn’t simple because they were brothers and brothers typically don’t kiss each other like lovers do. And maybe Rolo should have stopped it there, but the fact is that he didn’t and that Lelouch was a better kisser than he had expected and maybe he’d opened his mouth a little bit to do something between gasping and moaning and maybe that’s why he and Lelouch are currently making out on Lelouch’s bed instead of doing their homework.  
  
Rolo knows he could never explain this to anyone who saw, could never hope to make anyone understand because those who know their secrets would think he’d been compromised and those who don’t know would think that they’re sick, the both of them, for wanting what they want.  
  
There’s nothing sexual here, nothing stranger than two men who just so happen to be brothers realizing their long-time feelings for each other and maybe it’s not the most normal or healthy thing but hey, normal’s overrated when one of you is a brainwashed ex-prince and ex-terrorist and the other is an assassin. What exists between them is pure love, nothing more. Pure and unadulterated love, with no lust in sight.  
  
Until there is.  
  
Rolo knows he should stop Lelouch, should end things before they go too far and he gets sucked in too deep and his brother does irreparable psychological damage to his already dangerously injured brain, but he can’t be one hundred percent sure that he’s completely in control of his own faculties at the moment, because he’s never wanted anything like this.  
  
It’s worth it, for him, for sure. But Lelouch looks like he’s seen a ghost.  
  
Rolo doesn’t sleep in Lelouch’s bed that night.  
  
The next day, his brother meets C.C.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I do intend to save this ship from rarepair hell singlehandedly if I must.
> 
> To aid me on my valiant quest, send me prompts at senpai-san.tumblr.com


End file.
